What is this place?
And suddenly, the half-orc awoke. She didn’t remember falling asleep, and the unfamiliar feeling of cool slick stone under her cheek gave her enough pause that her initial instinct--to sit up flailing and cursing—was checked for a moment as she did inventory on her body, tensing and releasing muscles to be assured that she was still…whole. There was a minor creak and the sliding weight of scale mail over abdominal muscles, and…
She appeared to be fine. In fact, other than an odd, fluttering feeling through her muscles and tension manifesting itself already as nausea, she appeared to be completely hale. Except for the memory gap. How had she gotten here? A brief foray through her memory brought her to a mental wall that stopped her flat. She fought the mental barrier, eyes squeezing shut, trying to recall…but all that would come to her was cold. The memory of deep, bone-deep cold, the kind of cold to lie down and ride into death…
She shuddered from the memory (memory?), opening her eyes to yellow slits, scanning the dimly lit cavern. Strangers (probably?), in varied states of pain and weakness, nothing familiar in anything. Her long, broad fingers momentarily clumsy, she fumbled reflexively for a flask at her belt, wanting to burn the fuzziness from her brain, introduce the comforting familiarity of spices in her mouth. She pulled herself up, first onto hands and knees, then to a proper seated position, leaning against a wall that glowed faintly against her skin, the protuberances of varied, unfamiliar fungi casting something like light around her.
It occurred to her that the mostly-still, twitching bodies around her might be in need of assistance, might be in the last throes of death already, and a shiver ran down her spine, a light roar worked its way down the tips of long ears. Jaw clenched, she turned to the body nearest her and shook it, roughly, needing assurance that this place wasn’t filled with the dying, and figuring someone must know where they were…how…why. The basics.